What did you say?
by pseud0me
Summary: Brass's talk with Sara left her crying, Catherine doesn't have her story straight, Nick tries to make things better, Warrick makes matters worse, Grissom learns a thing or two. Lots of friendships, NCR, BSR & GSR. Please R&R.
1. An innocent discussion

**Author's Notes:** Not my characters, blah blah blah. Rated PG for some language and possible adult themes...don't worry, not offensive stuff. I don't care if you archive elsewhere, but please put a link back to http/ if you don't mind.

**Spoilers:** Nothing specific, but it is set sometime soon after _No Humans Involved_ (I think that was season 6),and does eventually have a brief reference to it. But if you haven't seen that episode, it's no big deal. Also, in chapter 7 there are references to _Stalker_ (season 1), and if you haven't seen that episode, then the scene might not make quite as much sense. But again, it's okay if you missed that totally awesome episode.

**CHAPTER 1 – An Innocent Talk**

"You've lost it."

"Excuse me?" she glanced up from her forensic journal. "Lost what?"

Brass leaned casually against the doorframe of the break room. To Sara, he looked suddenly weary and run down.

He didn't answer right away. Sara glared at him and articulated slowly, "Lost _what_?"

He moved to sit on the sofa opposite Sara. Brass thought a moment before answering. He carefully folded his hands in front of him and pointedly avoided looking directly at her, staring instead at his own hands. _She's not going to make this easy_, he thought to himself. _But then, I wasn't expecting her to._

"You've lost your passion," he said quietly.

Setting her reading down, she began to absent-mindedly straighten up the coffee table magazines. "No, Jim, I'm just less emotional than I used to be," she said, "I'm a CSI and I'm trained not to get emotionally involved with my cases," she paused to look up at him before continuing. "It clouds the judgment."

Her answer was cool, calm and rehearsed. Brass didn't buy it for a second. He lifted his eyes to meet hers and they sat there for a long drawn out moment; an unspoken staring contest. He considered his next move, and decided it didn't matter what he said now, she'd be ticked, so he might as well say what he wanted.

"Sara, I've known you for almost five years now. Is that about right?"

She stared blankly at him. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"We've seen a lot of stuff happen, worked some bizarre cases together," Jim stated, matter-of-factly, as though he were merely recounting their history together.

Her eyes narrow at him. He knew she was becoming suspicious of the conversation. He was prepared for that. As long as she doesn't storm out, he was prepared for her anger, suspicion, resentment, and even denial. Well, at least he thought he was prepared.

"You always showed great empathy for victims. You were passionate about your job," he paused, wanting to get it right. "More than that, you were passionate about justice."

He took another pause, expecting her to say something, but she sat silently. _Well, that's a first_, he thought..

"Now, I think you're just doing your job."

Sara stared right through him. "We're all just doing our jobs, Jim," she retorted. "I really don't see your point," realizing as she's saying it that it sounded more harsh than she meant it to.

He raised his hands in front of him. "Don't shoot me before I get to my point," he grinned to show her he's not afraid, that her tough act didn't scare him.

Sara settled back into the sofa and put her feet up on the coffee table. She made a gesture with her hand that he took to mean she wanted him to get on with it.

"Okay," he started again, taking a deep breath, "okay, my point is just this…one of the best things you had going for you when you started here was your passion for the work…" he stopped again, thinking maybe that wasn't exactly what he wanted to say, "…your passion for the truth."

She sat quietly. She was going to let him finish his babble, and then she was going back to the lab where she could be alone.

"But now," he paused, "now you show up, you do your job, you leave." He took a deep breathe before continuing again. "I'm just saying that it looks to me like you've lost the best thing you had…"

From where he sat he could hear her teeth begin to grind. He looked back at his hands. _If looks could kill…_ and he was thankful that they couldn't.

"Your passion. I think you've lost your passion."

_There, I've said it, now she'll rant and deny, but I've said it and as a friend, that counts for something._

Sara stood slowly and stepped towards the door. Her face like stone, she looked out at the hallway as she answered, not daring to look back at Brass. "I really have no idea what you mean, Brass."

She walked briskly out, leaving him alone.

After a long moment, Brass sighed. "Well, that went well," he said, to no one in particular.

"Do you always talk to yourself, Jim, or do you have eyes in the back of your head?"

Brass turned to see Nick Stokes in the door, coffee mug in hand, puzzled look on his face. Brass stood, and, straightening his jacket, mumbled, "Just, um, thinking out loud," and headed through the door and back to work.

Nick stared after him. Brass barreled past Warrick Brown in the hall, appearing not to see him. As Warrick walked up to the break room, they both watched as Brass disappeared around a corner.

Nick slowly shook his head. "You know, I used to think that guy was pretty normal. Maybe Grissom is starting to rub off on him?" he mused, considering Brass's friendship with 'gruesome Grissom.'

Warrick shrugged. "This job'll make anybody weird after a while. Even 'hardboiled' Jim Brass."

Nick considered this for a moment, smiled, nodded, and headed to pour himself some coffee.

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Catherine Willows stuck her head into Gil Grissom's office. Seeing Grissom bent over a small box with something that appeared to be alive, she stepped inside.

"What the hell did you say to her this time?" Catherine demanded, folding her arms in front of her.

Without looking up from the contents of the box, Gil's face became clouded with confusion.

"What did I say to whom?"

"That's what I'm asking, Grissom! What did you say to Sara? She's holed herself up with a stack of fingerprints and won't talk to anyone with more than one word answers. I'd rather have her mad and stomping around than sullen and withdrawn," she paused to take a deep breath, then continued before Grissom could cut in. "At least mad and stomping I knew she still cared about something in the world, but this…" she gestured wildly in exasperation, her voice rising, "this is too much! Whatever you said, go apologize to her!"

Grissom stared at her, waiting to be sure she was finished. Her arms folded again, her face flushed, and he could swear, although he couldn't see for certain, that she was tapping one foot.

"I haven't seen Sara this shift. If something is bothering her, I'm sure I don't know what it is," he said definitively, and returned to observing the contents of his box.

Catherine's hands balled into fists as she slammed them into her thighs. She turned and stormed down the hall, several lab techs dodging out of her path. "Ugh! If I were her, I'd be mad too!" she mumbled as she left.

From the end of the hall she heard Grissom standing at his door. "I heard that," he said flatly.

Red faced, she turned back and looked right at him. Eyes narrowed and teeth clenched, she yelled "Good!" and stormed away.

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Grissom watched Catherine turn the corner, wondering what exactly he had done to make her so angry. He rubbed the bridge of his nose momentarily and then turned to go back to his box.

"Erm, Gris?" said a hesitant voice behind him.

He turned to see Brass standing in the hallway behind him. "What can I do for you, Jim?" he asked as he hovered over his newest bug.

Brass slowly entered the office, shuffling his feet in embarrassment. "I heard that little discussion you and Cath just had."

"She seems to think I've done something to irritate Sara," Grissom replied, without looking up.

"Yeah, about that…"Brass began, "I think maybe this time I'm the cause of Sara's dark cloud."

Grissom, his curiosity aroused, looked up at his long time friend and with a raised eyebrow asked, "Is that so? And just how did you accomplish that?"

Brass grinned mischievously, trying not to blush under his friends gaze. "It's not like _that_, Gris."

"Not like what, Jim? I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Look, I just tried to have a little sit-down with her, and I don't think she wanted to talk."

Gil looked intently at his friend. "That's all? That doesn't sound like something that would make her mad."

"Well," Brass thought for a second, "maybe she didn't like what I said. I dunno."

"Jim, whatever it is, you'd better fix this. Catherine thinks it's my fault, and I don't need to be on her bad side right now."

"It sure was fun seeing her all riled up like that, though," Jim mused, as he turned to leave.

Grissom chuckled and called after him, "It was only fun for you because you weren't at the business end of it."

"True, true," Brass said quietly as he walked away down the hall.

"Talking to yourself again, Brass?"

This time Nick was standing in the door to the DNA lab, coffee mug still in hand.

"You got nothin' better to do, Stokes, than eavesdrop on me?" Brass queried gruffly as he stalked back to his own office. _I don't need to be riled right now. I need to figure out how to talk to Sara._

Nick shook his head and went back to his work. "Weirder and weirder," he said to Warrick, who was sitting in the room behind him. "I'm not so sure Grissom hasn't rubbed off on him more than just a little."

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"Hey, Sugar, got a sec?" Brass tapped lightly on the doorframe, not wanting to startle Sara. She looked engrossed in something, her head bent over a magnifier on the table. He could see her visibly tense at the sound of his voice. _If I had thought this would be easy, I was dreaming._

Not looking up, Sara snapped, "Not really."

Brass gathered his fortitude and moved out of the hall into the small room. It was dark, and the desk lamp beside Sara was only just bright enough to light her work, and her face. He placed both his hands on the table directly in front of her and leaned toward her. He didn't want to be overheard again, but he wanted to be sure Sara was listening.

Mustering all his courage, in his softest apologetic voice he said, "About earlier, I wanted to…"

Sara's head jerked up. "What about earlier? There's nothing to say," she snapped, practically stabbing him with her eyes.

Brass paused, taking a deep breath. This conversation had already gone wrong once this shift, and he didn't want it to end the same way this time.

Looking her directly in the eyes now, he continued quietly, "I miss you."

He waited patiently as her face slowly softened, the anger draining. He could see that now she was curious, she wanted to know where this was going. He knew she was still tense, guard up, but she was at least listening.

Softly, almost whispering, Brass went on. "I miss hearing you laugh from down the hall. I miss seeing you smile when you say hello." He moved slowly around the table to stand beside her, taking the extra time to carefully arrange his next words.

"I miss seeing you absorbed by evidence that sparked something intense and beautiful inside your mind."

Sara's defenses began to thin. She had been so withdrawn, so removed from everything, but she hadn't realized that anyone had actually noticed. Of all the people she worked with, though, Jim had been the last one she would have thought was paying that much attention.

Brass slowly reached up a hand and touched her cheek lightly with his thumb. "What I really meant to say earlier, what I really want to say now," he paused, lowering his voice so that even if there were someone else in the room, only Sara would hear what he was about to say.

"I miss watching you living. I don't like watching you dying," he whispered as he tenderly brushed hair from her face. "You've been my friend through a lot of stuff, and now I'm going to be yours. I miss you, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to bring you back to life."

Not waiting for her response, he gently drew her closer and leaned down to kiss her lightly on the forehead, taking a slow breath as his lips touched her skin. Without looking at her again, he turned and quietly left the room, leaving Sara to her own thoughts.

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Catherine practically stomped through Grissom's door, not bothering to knock this time. Seething with indignation, her voice filled with venom, she barked at him, "What did you say this time!"

Grissom looked up, obviously confused again. "Jim said he'd fix it…"

"Now she's crying! The door to the lab is locked, and she's at the desk with her head in her hands, sobbing! You insensitive bastard, what did you say!"

She took a short breath, and appearing to hear Grissom's words on delay she replied shortly, "And Jim is not here to fix all your screw-ups!"

Gil was about to reply that it wasn't his fault, but Catherine had already turned and stormed out before he had a chance.

"Jim owes me big for this," he said to himself before turning back to his desk.

"Talking to yourself, Gris?" Nick asked jokingly from the doorway, but seeing his boss's sour look Nick's own smile faded. "Here's those results from DNA you said you wanted. I brought them as soon as they came off the printer." He waved some papers in front of Gil before setting them on the desk.

Distractedly, Gil waved a hand in the air. "Yeah, thanks, Nicky." Sitting down, he didn't even look at the DNA results that he had hounded Nick about earlier.

Nick watched him for a moment and then turned to quietly slip out. _Yep, it's for sure. Weirder and weirder._

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Continued in Chapter 2

Thanks for reading. Don't be afraid to review, even if you think it's a bunch of pooey. Is pooey a word?


	2. Fallout

A/N: As always, they're not my characters & I don't make any $.

CHAPTER 2 - Fallout

Nick stood quietly at the door of the break room, watching as Catherine made a sandwich for her break. After struggling with a mayonnaise jar, she finally slammed it down on the counter in disgust. "Need some help with that, Cath?" Nick asked from the doorway.

Catherine Willows dropped into a nearby chair and sighed. Resting her head on the table, she didn't answer him and he walked silently across the room to finish making her sandwich. Placing the small meal on the table, Nick asked, "Something on your mind you wanna talk about?"

Catherine raised her head and looked gratefully at the sandwich. "You didn't have to do that, Nicky, but I'm sure glad you did."

"What's eating at you?"

Blushing, she explained, "Lindsey's been giving me grief lately that I'm not around, and tonight before shift it really blew up." She took a deep breath and brushed back a stray hair. "She said she wished that I had died and not Eddie and that I didn't really love her, and then…" Catherine's eyes filled with tears and she reached out to put her hand on Nick's arm. "Nick, she said the most hateful things, and I think she really meant them."

Placing his hand over hers and giving it a reassuring pat, he said, "Come on, now, Cat, you know how teenagers are. She'll get past this and things will be okay. She loves you; she just doesn't know it right now."

Sighing heavily, Catherine turned back to her still uneaten sandwich. "I hope you're right."

For a long moment, Nick watched her as she processed her thoughts, and finally took a bite of her sandwich. "So, now you wanna tell me what all the yelling was about earlier? You sounded royally angry."

Horrified that there were even more witnesses to her outburst, she looked at him wide-eyed, "You heard that?"

Grinning, Nick replied "I think the next county heard that. You want to tell me what's going on?"

"Oh, Nicky, I was so mean to Grissom."

"Yeah, well, that part you don't have to tell me about. I heard it for myself. So, what are you going to do about Grissom?"

Putting her head in her hands she groaned, "I don't know what to do. I really laid into him, but most of it was just me being upset about Lindsey."

Cautiously, he suggested, "Well, maybe you should apologize to him. I mean, he probably did deserve the verbal scalding you gave him, but he ought to know that it wasn't entirely about him that had you upset."

On the verge of tears, Catherine considered his words for a moment. "Nick, you're absolutely right. I've been frustrated with him lately for how he treats Sara, but he didn't deserve the things I said, or the way I said them. It's just that she's been so, I dunno, far away, and I guess I blamed him for that," she said, shaking her head. "I don't even know if her behavior is his fault or not."

Standing, she moved towards the door, leaving her sandwich virtually untouched. At the threshold, she turned back with a look of determination. "Thanks, Nick. I've got to go talk to Grissom."

As she sped away, Nick called after her, "Hey, are you gonna finish this sandwich?"

From further up the hall, she barely got out, "You can have it!" before half of it disappeared.

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Warrick Brown knocked lightly on the glass door to the lab, and heard a muffled "Go away," in response. So he knocked a little louder.

"Are you deaf? I said go away," Sara barked, raising her head to glare at him.

Smiling, he playfully replied, "Come on, Sara. You know I'm not going away until you open this door. Don't make me put my fist through it, 'cuz that would just be ugly, not to mention bloody."

Smiling faintly, she got up slowly to open the door. "I guess I wouldn't want to be responsible for that. Besides, you'd probably make me clean it up."

"You bet I would!" he said with a chuckle.

Holding the door open with one arm, she swiped her last few tears away on the sleeve of the other arm. "I must look awful," she said, turning away from him embarrassed.

"Naw, girl, you always look beautiful to me."

Sara turned back and laughed, lightly slapping his arm. "You're such a flatterer."

"I speak nothing but the truth," he said with a warm smile. Reaching out, he put a hand firmly on Sara's shoulder. "Truth is, I was worried about you. Catherine's been yelling at Grissom saying you were down here crying, and I wanted to check…"

A mortified look came over Sara's face and she interrupted, "Grissom? Grissom knows I've been crying?"

Almost apologetically he said, "Yeah, well, Grissom and the few of us that were in the hall outside his office at the time."

Throwing off Warrick's hand and bounding into motion, Sara grabbed her jacket off the chair back and rushed towards the door. "I've got to go, Warrick. I'm sorry," she said hurriedly over her shoulder, tears threatening to come flooding again.

Puzzled, Warrick followed her a few steps up the hall. "Where are you going? Shift is only half over!" But she was already too far to hear him. "Man, but I **am** worried about that girl," he said to the now quiet hallway.

---------------------------------

Grissom's office was unusually dark and quiet. Brass hesitated before knocking on the door, thinking that maybe Grissom was out in the field, but then heard a slight scuffle from inside.

"Gil, you in there?"

From the darkness inside Grissom answered, grunting, "Yeah, but don't come in just yet. I have a spider loose. I'm hoping that the darkness will make him more comfortable to come out of hiding."

Wrinkling his nose, Brass took several slow steps away from the door, eyeing the small crack beneath the door in case anything should suddenly come scurrying out. "Oh, hell, Gil, is it dangerous?"

Just then the door burst open to reveal Grissom on his knees with a large tarantula on the back of his hand. "Don't tell me, Jim, that you're afraid of a harmless creature like this," he joked dryly as he stroked the spider with his other hand to soothe it.

"Afraid? No, I ain't afraid. I'm just, uh, allergic," Brass replied from his position of relative safety across the hall. _Do those things jump?_

Grissom raised an eyebrow in question but said nothing and moved to stand up slowly.

"I sure would feel better if you put that thing in a cage, though," Brass said, still across the hall. Thinking a moment more he added, "A sealed cage. With a lock. A really big lock."

A moment later, Grissom reappeared in his office doorway and waved his friend inside. "It's safe now, don't worry," he reassured Jim as he motioned him into a chair. "Now, what can I do for you this time?"

Brass took a sweeping glance around the room to assure himself that nothing else fanged or furry lurked there, waiting to bite him, and then sat gingerly, rubbing his fingers lightly on the arm of the chair. "Well, I just thought you should know that I had another talk with Sara, and…"

"Yes, Catherine came by and told me about it."

Puzzled, Jim looked at Grissom with some confusion. "Catherine? She couldn't possibly have heard us…What did she tell you?"

Frowning, Grissom placed his folded hands on his desk and looked directly at his friend. "She said Sara was crying."

As silence threatened to overwhelm the tiny space, Brass stared uncomprehendingly at Grissom until Gil finally asked quietly, "Jim, what exactly did you say to her? Catherine indicated that Sara seemed pretty upset and had locked the lab door."

Brass opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He had intended to encourage Sara, to let her know that she had a friend that was willing to share in her pain until she could overcome it. Now, to find out that she's even more upset, he didn't know what to say.

Avoiding Gil's stare, Brass wondered if Grissom would be jealous if he found out just exactly what Jim had said...and done. _Well, I'll be damned if I'm gonna do nothing while he sits by and lets the woman he says he loves suffer alone. If he's not man enough to do something for her, then he's not man enough, and if he's mad, he's mad and he can just…_

Grissom cleared his throat, breaking into Jim's rambling thoughts. "Catherine came by a little while ago to apologize."

"So, uh, did you tell her that it's my fault Sara is so upset? I mean, I guess she should be yelling at me, not you," he added, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically guilty for letting his friend take the blame and the brunt of Cat's anger.

"No, I didn't tell her anything except that I honestly didn't know why Sara was so upset."

Leaning back into his chair, Jim stared at the ceiling, uncertain now of what he should do to clean up the mess he seemed to have unwittingly made. He shook his head to clear the confusion and looked back to Gil.

Before Grissom could speak again, there was a knock at the door and Warrick entered without waiting for a response. "Grissom, I thought you should know that Sara's gone. I don't think she'll be back tonight."

Warrick's face looked grave and worried.

Grissom scowled. "What do you mean gone, Warrick?"

Brass turned around in his chair to face Brown, his features tightened in concentration. "Where did she go and when did she leave?" he asked, his tone short.

"I wish I knew where she went, but she just left a few minutes ago. I just went down to check on her and…" he looked down, sheepishly, "I guess I mentioned that some of us knew she had been crying, and she just took off."

Looking back at Grissom, Warrick continued, "She didn't look like she was in good shape."

His face flushing as though from a sudden heat, he stood. "What am I supposed to do? I have a court appearance tomorrow and I need to review the evidence I'm to present. The rest of you are overloaded with cases," he snapped, his frustration evident in his voice. Pausing for a moment, he collected himself and continued with a more detached tone, "Besides, she's a grown woman. She can look after herself."

Warrick's eyes narrowed and he began to say something, but changed his mind and suddenly turned and walked away up the hall.

Grissom stared at the empty doorway for a second. Without looking at Jim, he said quietly, "I really don't have time to go chasing after distraught women."

Brass glared at him for a moment, but realized that his friend was also worried somewhere deep inside. Standing, he said, "Don't worry, Gil. I've got nothing but paperwork to do tonight, and it can wait until later. I'll bag off the rest of shift and find her. It'll be okay."

Gil looked at him, his face a blank mask. "Are you sure you haven't made things bad enough already?"

Taking a deep breath, Jim answered slowly, willing himself not to take the comment personally. "I'm going to let that go as concern for a mutual friend, and not the harsh insult you meant it as." He paused and then went on firmly, "Whatever it takes, I'm going to make this right."

Turning his back to Gil, Brass quietly exited the office and headed for his car. As he crossed the parking lot, he took out his cell phone and dialed Sara's home phone. Just as he was getting into his car, her answering machine picked up.

"Damn," he muttered, smacking the steering wheel. Hitting the cancel button, he speed dialed her cell phone and said a silent prayer that she will answer.

One ring. He got his keys in the ignition.

Two rings. He got the car started.

Three rings. He got his seat belt on.

Four rings. He was beginning to give up hope when he heard a quiet click and then a soft, "Hello."

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Continued in Chapter 3


	3. In Silence She Speaks

A/N: As always, they're not my characters & I don't make any $.

CHAPTER 3 – In Silence She Speaks

Jim Brass drove slowly and with purpose down the darkened residential street. Staring intently into shadows, he began to wonder if she had changed her mind and gone home when he finally pulled up beside a small neighborhood park, the fourth one he had checked. He could barely make out a solitary figure seated on a bench across the park, grateful that she was there, and safe.

The quiet of the night was peaceful and unbroken as he exited the Taurus and dug an old blanket out of the trunk. It wasn't cold out, thankfully, but it never hurt to be comfortable. He didn't know how this was going to go, but he felt certain that it would be a long night.

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"Well, this is a nice change," Catherine commented, as the waitress brought out a fresh decaf coffee and a hot plate of pancakes. She smiled wanly at her daughter across the table, but Lindsey wasn't smiling back. The entire breakfast had been that way…strained.

"Yeah, well," Nick smiled widely as his second plate of pancakes arrives, "I wanted to do something special for my two favorite girls."

Looking up from his forkful of pancake he saw that the morning wasn't going to turn out as cheerfully as he had hoped without a big shove in the right direction. "So, Linds, how's school?"

Lindsey stared at him over her omelet and silently shrugged her shoulders.

"Do you have a favorite subject? A teacher you especially like? A boyfriend?" he tried to keep the conversation going, or, at least, get it started.

Blushing slightly, Lindsey shrugged again. Catherine turned to Nick and rolled her eyes in a "see what I have to deal with" way. Carefully setting his fork down, Nick looked seriously at them both.

"Okay," he says to himself more than to them, "this isn't going to work."

Breaking her sullen silence in favor of confusion, Lindsey asks, "What's not going to work?"

Catherine's brow wrinkles as she gives Nick the "evil eye," and tries to think of ways to change the topic.

"This," Nick says plainly, waving his hands to indicate the two of them. Then, indicating only Lindsey, he continues, "This brooding, 'my mother has ruined my life' and now I hate her thing has got to stop." His tone sounds like that of an older brother dealing with a misled younger sibling who needs to be set straight on the ways of the world.

At his statement, Catherine nodded her whole-hearted agreement at Lindsey, stopping just short of saying 'that's what I've been trying to say all along,' but then she turned to see Nick looking directly at her.

His hand now indicating Catherine, Nick continued, "And this. You are the adult. Lindsey is your daughter. She is not required to like you, and she is not likely to obey you, but you still must be the adult. If you want her to become a mature young woman, you must model maturity for her."

Astonished, Catherine stared unbelieving at Nick. "What do you think you're talking about!" she says incredulously.

"Catherine, I'm talking about the eye rolling, the yelling, the tantrums…"

Nick sighed, pausing, and placed his hand over Catherine's, which she quickly pulled it away. Nodding to himself, he collected his thoughts and plowed steadily ahead. "Lindsey, your mom's job is to take care of you. That means that she works to provide for you the things you need, and it means that she makes rules for you to protect you from things you're not ready for."

Interrupting, Lindsey raises her hands in protest. "But I am ready! I'm old enough to make my own decisions and she's just…"

Holding a hand up to stop her tirade, Nick nods in understanding. "But Lindsey, if you want more freedom and more control of your life, then you need to show that you can handle it. Pouting and arguing is what a child does, and it is not the mature way to get more freedom, respect or responsibility. If you can't act like a grown-up, then you aren't going to be treated like a grown-up, and you can't do grown-up things."

"But! But she…" Lindsey retaliated, pointing at her mother.

"But nothing," Nick said shortly. "You are responsible for your own actions, and she is responsible for hers. If she makes a mistake, that doesn't mean that you're off the hook or that you have license to behave childishly." Nick paused as Lindsey's mouth opened to speak, but when it snapped shut again, he asked, "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Lindsey nodded silently, looking down at her now cold omelet.

Turning back to Catherine, Nick's tone softened again. "If you want to love your daughter the way she needs, then you need to reign in your emotions sometimes. Just because she's angry and yelling, doesn't mean you have to get angry and yell. If you're both angry all the time, when is the fight going to be over?"

Catherine's mind reeled at the avenue the conversation had taken. She had been prepared for Lindsey's actions to be called into question, but not her own. Her eyes began to fill with tears as she covered her face with her hands.

"Honey, I say this because I love you both so much, and it hurts me to see you both like this," Nick said softly as he turned back toward Catherine. He knew that this conversation had hurt her, and now he wanted to comfort her. He gently placed his hand on the back of her neck. "Listen, being a mom is hard. Lord knows I didn't make it easy on my mom," he said, chuckling lightly. "But you and Lindsey have a better start than most people. You love your daughter and you try to take very good care of her."

As Catherine looked up into his face, he smiled warmly at her. With tears running down her face, she asked quietly, "You don't think I'm a bad mother?"

Reaching out and pulling her to himself, he held her gently and whispered softly in her ear, "No. No, Cat, I think you're a great mother." He looked to his other side where Lindsey sat looking suddenly lonely. He stretched his hand out and gently took her hand. Pulling her deliberately around the corner of the table, he wrapped his arm around her and whispered in her ear, "And I think you're a wonderful daughter, and I know your mom loves you more than the whole wide world."

Tears began to fill Lindsey's eyes. Nick sat quietly for several long moments, letting each of them cry into his shoulders as he held them each with one arm. Then he softly whispered to them both, "You're my two favorite girls." They sat for a long time in his strong embrace, heedless of the staring breakfast patrons and the inquisitive glances of the wait staff.

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Quietly latching his trunk, with blanket in hand, Jim headed off across the park through the darkness.

His phone conversation with Sara had been short, but he had to admit that he was relieved she had even answered his call. He had only asked where she was, not even saying hello. Sara hadn't been exactly certain, saying that she had driven around for half an hour crying and now was lost, but she did know the names of an intersection nearby the park she had finally stopped at. He told her to stay put and he'd be there soon, then he'd hung up. It had taken him almost forty-five minutes to find the right park, which was only a fifteen minute drive from the lab.

The trees above him gave the park a shady feel during the day, but at night, it felt more like a scene in a horror movie, and Jim subconsciously wondered if there would be someone behind each tree he passed. It wasn't that this was a bad neighborhood, but Jim was alert and cautious. _It never did anybody any good to be caught unaware, _he thought to himself as he neared the bench.

As he drew closer, he could see that Sara's back was to him; the bench faced an open sports field and the bright city lights beyond. Clearing his throat so as not to startle her, he slowly approached and sat quietly down beside her.

Sara didn't turn to look at him as he sat, but reached out and took his hand gently in hers. In the faint light from the Vegas strip, he could see tears still running down her cheeks, and his heart ached to see her in such pain. He pulled the blanket around both their shoulders, and putting one arm protectively around her, he drew her close so that her cheek rested on his shoulder.

In the silence of the night, Brass listened to her now steady breathing. After several minutes, he began to think she had fallen asleep until she slowly draped one arm across his chest and the other behind his back and gave him a long hug. Smiling faintly to himself, he softly kissed the top of her head whispered, "Everything's gonna be okay, Sugar. I promise."

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"Warrick, has Brass called?" Grissom asked as he entered the locker room.

Looking up at him as he buttoned his shirt, Warrick shook his head.

"Did Sara come back?"

Again, Warrick shook his head.

Eyeing the younger CSI warily, Grissom finally adds, "Not a word about tonight to anyone, especially anyone not on nightshift. I'm willing to overlook her absence, but someone else may not be," and then turned and walked out.

Still upset that Grissom hadn't seemed too concerned about Sara earlier, Warrick slammed his locker door and left.

Grissom stood in the doorway to his office for several long moments. He was unsure what to do about Sara. He was, in fact, very concerned about her leaving in the middle of a shift, especially after all that Catherine had told him about her behavior earlier that night. He had even tried both their cell phones, but only got voicemail. _If Jim found her, why hasn't he called me to let me know she's alright?_

Eventually he came to a decision. He quickly gathered his things and headed to his car. Jim had come back inside to look up an intersection before he left to find Sara, and the scrap of paper with the street names was still on his desk. He would find her himself.

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Continued in Chapter 4

Thank you for your many kind and encouraging reviews! If you want to leave further reviews, please visit 


	4. Are you strong enough to be my man?

A/N: As always, they're not my characters & I don't make any $.

CHAPTER 4 – Are You Strong Enough To Be My Man?

The dawn had come slowly, and Jim Brass had enjoyed every moment of it as he sat silently on the park bench. Though Sara hadn't been asleep for long, she had been asleep just long enough to have missed the beautiful sunrise. Brass reasoned that while working night shift, she had probably seen hundreds of others and could safely miss this one.

They had sat together in relative silence for several hours. Sara had at least stopped crying a few hours earlier, but Jim was thankful that she had cried at all. He had often worried about how much she held things in, and how long she had lived without any kind of outlet for her emotions.

Brass lifted her as gently as he could without waking her. His lower back gave him a protesting twang, but it wasn't so bad that he couldn't ignore it for at least a few minutes. Slowly, he carried Sara towards his own car. As he approached the Taurus, he was surprised to see Grissom leaning against the side of the car.

"Be a pal…" Brass asked quietly, indicating the passenger door with a nod and gently shaking the keys in his hand.

With an especially disconcerting silence, Grissom took the keys from Jim and unlocked the door, holding it open as Jim slowly set Sara down on the seat and buckled her in. Afraid to wake her, Jim stifled a groan as his knees creaked, and gently shut the door.

Turning back to Grissom, he saw that Gil had moved several steps away from him. Jim followed slowly behind Grissom, and they were moving towards the center of the park and away from hearing range of the car when Gil suddenly stopped and turned around to face him.

"What do you think you're doing, Jim?"

Grissom's expression had changed from one of aloof observation to one of green eyed jealousy. Brass stood silent and unmoving, his expression unreadable.

"You've been here this whole time with her, snuggling on a park bench? You never even called to let me know she was alright!" His face was flushing, but he tried to regain his composure and normally stoic nature. "We could have used her help at the lab."

Jim's lips twitched, slowly curving into a smile, but he continued to remain silent.

Grissom waited, growing inpatient after several minutes of uncomfortable silence. "As Sara's supervisor, I need to be aware of any circumstances which might cloud her judgment as a CSI."

At this, Brass almost laughed aloud but succeeded in covering it by clearing his throat instead. "As her supervisor? That so?"

"Yes, Jim, as her supervisor, I need to know what's going on between you two."

His face suddenly stone cold, Brass narrowed his eyes at Gil. Tempted to become angry at Gil's attempt at subterfuge, he chose rather to press the real issue. "You know, we've been friends for years, but I only just now understand how truly selfish you really are."

Baffled by this sudden shift in conversation, Grissom momentarily lacked an answer. "Because I am concerned about the integrity of my CSI and my lab? How does that make me selfish?"

While Brass had always been amazed at how astute and brilliant Grissom could be at a crime scene, he was equally amazed at how thick headed he could be when it came to actual relationships with other people. Shaking his head slowly, Jim tried to press the issue again. "Gil, are you incapable of saying what is really bothering you?"

"I think I already have, Jim," Grissom responded flatly.

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"Thanks for dropping me at school, Nick," Lindsey said over her shoulder as she jumped from the truck to meet her friends. He didn't even have time to answer; he just smiled, waved and drove off.

"So, your place or mine?" He winked at the red head beside him. "I've got four hours to kill before I have to meet Warrick for basketball."

After the last 24 hours, all Catherine could think about was sleep. Quiet, peaceful, comforting sleep.

"Your place," she said firmly. They spent the rest of the drive to his place in silence.

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Grissom struggled for breath. Though he had height on Brass, Jim made up for it with strength, skill and speed. Pinned with his back to a tree and one of Jim's arms pressed across is throat, the other pinning his arm against his side, Gil was a captive audience.

"If you were any other man…" Brass growled through his teeth, and pressed his forearm a little harder into Gil's throat.

"I, uh…." Gil choked out through the throbbing in his jaw where Brass had landed a solid punch a moment earlier. He had never seen Jim's eyes this close before, and now they seemed lit by fire.

"If you ever say something like that again…"Brass started, then suddenly let go of Grissom. The sudden release caused Grissom to almost pitch forward. Brass turned to walk back to his car, but paused, his back still to Gil. "I think I've made my point."

Grissom rubbed his throat and coughed, his eyes watering. "Yeah, yeah, I got the point."

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The apartment was quiet when he unlocked the door. He laid his keys on the small table nearby, and hung his light jacket in the coat closet. Heading for the bedroom, he began to slowly strip his clothes, leaving them where they fell. He was too tired to consider picking up after himself, and besides, he only had a few hours before he had to get up again.

As his socks were hitting the floor, his cell phone began to ring. Cursing, Warrick dug through his jeans for it.

"Brown," he grumbled.

"Warrick, hey, it's Brass."

"Brass?" Suddenly Warrick was afraid maybe he'd have to work a double.

"Uh, yeah, listen…I just wanted to let you know that I found Sara." Brass's voice sounded a little strained, but Warrick couldn't put his finger on what was wrong.

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. She just needed some time to pull herself together. Look, tonight's supposed to be her night off. She's gonna take it for once, okay?"

Warrick smiled. Sara never took nights off. No one else in the lab even knew what nights she was supposed to have off since she practically lived at the lab. "You looking after her, Brass?"

There was a long silence before Jim responded. "Uh, yeah, I guess I am."

Warrick nodded to himself. "Good. Then I know she's in good hands. And, hey, thanks for letting me know…I've been really worried."

"Yeah, I should have called earlier, but I was detained. Sorry."

Brass was about to hang up when Warrick said, "Brass, uh, I'm not her supervisor. You should be telling Grissom she won't be in."

Another long pause and Warrick could hear Brass take a deep breath. "It's her night off. Grissom doesn't have to be notified that she's not coming in, I just wanted you to know she's alright. Okay?"

Warrick could sense that there was more going on than what Brass was saying, but he let it drop. "Yeah, fine, man. See ya later." The line went dead and Warrick hung up, lying back on the bed and closing his eyes, hoping that sleep would come quickly.

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Grissom nursed his bruised arm and his wounded pride, and tried not to bite his now swelling lip. Driving slowly home, he thought about Jim Brass. They had been friends a long time and Gil had thought that by now they could say anything to each other. Brass had made his point, though, and Sara's sex life was a discussion topic that was strictly off limits.

Pulling into his driveway, Grissom got slowly out of his truck and walked to the front door. His back was aching from the abrupt meeting with a tree, and when he got inside he sat down on the couch to ice it.

Of course, he could report the incident as assault, but Brass was a good friend, and Gil knew he had provoked Jim with his comments. Grissom valued Jim's friendship, but that friendship was now in danger. Not only the friendship, but Grissom's chances with Sara seemed to be diminishing before his very eyes.

He couldn't blame Jim for being angry with him, not after what he had said about Sara. _Well, I didn't **actually** call her a slut…I just said she'd go with anyone that showed an interest._

_But what if Jim told her about the conversation? What if she knows what I said about her?_ His mind raced through all the possibilities until it came to the one he was most afraid of at that moment. _What if she is moving on? What if she has already moved on with Jim?_

He reached for the phone and had Brass's cell phone half dialed when his hands began to slowly place it back in its cradle. He stared for a moment at them, thinking that maybe they had a will of their own before he realized what Brass had been trying to tell him. He had been selfish, and he was beginning to see exactly how. Now he knew what he needed to do.

He practically jumped off the sofa, wincing as he remembered his bruises and aches, and raced out the door to his truck.

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Ignoring his own aches yet again, Brass carried Sara gently into his own house and laid her still sleeping form down on his bed. Pulling the blankets around her, he stood silently and watched her sleep for several minutes. He was amazed that she had slept through not just the drive through morning traffic, but his manhandling her around not once, but twice. _I guess when you go long enough without sleep when it does come, it means it._

He tiptoed into the kitchen and made a mental inventory of supplies. He wanted to be sure that when she woke later there would be something for him to cook. She probably hadn't eaten since some time the night before, and she was likely to be hungry.

He wasn't gone long, though. He suspected she probably had nightmares, since that's what kept most people in their line of work from sleeping, and he didn't want her to wake up alone. After digging an old afghan out of the closet, he made himself comfortable in the worn out recliner near the bed. As he stared at the ceiling, he considered calling Grissom to apologize for nearly ripping his head off, but as he listened to Sara's gentle breathing, he decided that she was his priority right now and Gil would just have to stew.

Sleep didn't come for a long while. That was normal when he was worried about something, and he was definitely worried about Sara. He thought he had prepared himself for her reaction to his earlier statements, but then, he had thought her reaction would be a little more yelling and a lot less crying. _ What man knows how to deal with a crying woman?_ So far, though, he thought things had worked out alright. He had always felt protective of Sara, especially at first because she had reminded him of Holly Gribbs.

He thought of all the times he had been with her at crime scenes, or sitting beside her in the interview rooms. Mostly, he thought of the times when he had stood beside her, leaning towards her just a little bit, cautiously watching the scene around them to be certain that there was nothing to harm her, and she had been smiling at him. All the times he had been close enough to smell her shampoo, and now, here she was, asleep in his bed.

When had it changed? When had he stopped thinking of her just as someone he needed to protect, and started to think of her as a beautiful and intelligent woman? And when had that grown into thinking of her as someone he wanted to spend more time with, and then someone he didn't think he could live without?

Was there a moment he could locate in his memory when a switch had flipped? And if there was such a moment, could he expunge it from his mind so that he would not be so distracted? She needed a friend right now. A friend. Just a friend. 

He needed to push aside his personal desires and be strong. _But damn! I'm tired of being strong!_ was his last thought before fading off into sleep.

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Will be continued in Chapter 5.

Thanks again for all your encouraging reviews. I look forward to hearing what you think of this chapter, so please please please review this chapter. I welcome any thoughts/desires you have. Again, to leave a review, go to 


	5. A thought crosses her mind

A/N: As always, they're not my characters & I don't make any $.

It's exciting to hear how many of you GSR shippers are enjoying this little story of mine. Just for you guys, because you've been so encouraging, I'll try to do a GSR next time. Regarding reviews, I don't mind if you leave a flame but 1) don't be a coward and leave it anonymously...that's just rude, and 2) don't just say something like "this story sucks" because that doesn't help me to improve as a writer, and it's also just rude, and 3) please do not use profanity, that's also just rude. Thank you for being thoughtful reviewers, and thanks to Judge-Douglas-Mason for a story-line reality check.

And in case it's not too obvious, this story assumes that the Ecklie nightmare never happened…night shift is still together.

CHAPTER 5 – A Thought Crosses Her Mind

Catherine sat up slowly, the fog of sleep slipping away as she looked around at a room she didn't recognize. "What the…" she started to swear, but taking a second look she noticed Nick's clothes tossed haphazardly over a chair and the footboard.

His bedroom wasn't quite what she would have expected for a bachelor. The furniture matched, and he had even hung art on the walls. The only signs that it was a bachelor pad were the errant clothes, and a large Texas flag hanging on the closet door. She smiled to herself and went to explore the rest of his house, pulling on one of his discarded t-shirts as she went.

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It was well after lunch when Jim finally woke. He was one of those people that went from asleep to awake in a heartbeat, he just wasn't socially presentable until after his coffee. It only took him a few seconds to remember why he was in the chair and not the bed, and then to realize that the bed was empty.

"Not again!" he mumbled to himself as he got up and went looking through the house for Sara.

Room after room was empty and undisturbed, until the kitchen. Coffee was ready, pancakes were made, and there were dirty dishes in the sink, but no Sara. Off the kitchen was the back patio, and Brass immediately noticed the door was ajar.

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"How's it going with Cath?" Warrick asked in what he hoped was his casual voice.

Smiling, Nick gave him a friendly pat on the back. "War, I want to thank you, man."

Puzzled, Warrick shook his head. "What did I do?"

Suddenly looking serious, Nick looked at his friend and tried to choose the right words. The wrong words right now, he knew, could damage a very important friendship. "You never said this, but I know that you could have been pretty serious about Catherine."

As Nick paused to gauge his friend's reaction, Warrick waited for him to continue. This wasn't exactly their usual conversation after a sweaty game of basketball, but he valued Nick's insights and wanted to hear him out.

Not seeing a negative response, Nick thought it safe to continue. "Cath hasn't talked about what happened between you two either, so I'm just going on what I already know about you."

Another pause, another waiting look. Nick cautiously continued, trying to judge the right path to tread. "My guess is that you didn't feel ready to be a father…especially of a screwed up teenager. Would that be right?"

Warrick closed his eyes, thinking about all the fun that he and Catherine had together, but there was always Lindsey…not that he didn't want a family of his own, but an instant family with all its pre-existing issues was a little more than he could cope with. He nodded, finally answering Nick's question.

Nodding to himself, Nick continued, "That's what I figured, but that's why I have to thank you. I really love Lindsey, and if you hadn't ended it with Cath, I'd never have had the chance to be involved in her life the way I am."

Processing what Nick was saying, Warrick was glad that Lindsey would have a father figure in her life again, and he knew that Nick would take that role and all its responsibilities seriously. _It's about time that girl gets a good break!_

"So," Warrick started back at the beginning, "how's it going with Cath?"

A confused look settled over Nick's face. "Umm, I, uh…"

Warrick laughed suddenly, finally seeing the truth. "Don't tell me, man, that she doesn't know you're dating."

"No! I mean, yes! I mean, uh…" he stammered, flustered, and then started again, "I mean, yes, of course she knows we're dating. I'm just, uh, trying to take it slow, ya know, for Lindsey's sake."

Warrick's eyes grew wide. "You mean that you and Catherine have been together for over a month and you haven't…you two….haven't…"

Blushing and turning away, Nick tried not to look at his friend's surprise. "I told you, I want to be sure this might work before we get that involved. I mean, we work together…and Lindsey needs a more permanent situation than…"

"This stuff never bothered you before, Nick. I've heard you talk about your other girlfriends, and if they were ready on day one, you never missed the opportunity. You know what I'm sayin'?"

"Yeah, well, none of them were Cath, and none of them had such a great kid as Linds. I don't know, War, I think this could be serious."

Warrick looked at Nick with wide eyes. "Are you talking marriage, man?"

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"Did your clock break?" Ecklie asked sarcastically from the doorway.

Without looking up from his desk, Grissom answered, "No, Conrad, I'm aware of the time."

"Then you know that your shift was over hours ago. You really should get a life outside the job," he retorted, walking away.

Grissom slowly raised his head and stared at the empty space Ecklie had left in the doorway. "Conrad," he said to the air, "if you only knew the truth of what you say…"

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He looked at her carefully, trying to judge her mood. Sitting silently on a step with a coffee mug in hand, she stared out over the back yard. It wasn't much to see, but he figured she wasn't really looking out at the view, she was looking inside at herself. He could tell from her expression that her thoughts were serious, and he had to exert some self control not to make a smart remark.

"Coffee's still warm if you want some," she said, without turning to look at him.

Surprised that she could have heard him open the door and cautiously step out when he had been so careful to be stealthy, he fumbled for words, "How….did…"

"I heard you tromping through the house," she said evenly, answering his not quite asked question.

Wrinkling his nose and pouting a little, Brass feigned a look of indignation. "I don't tromp!"

She smiled slowly and finally looked up at him standing by the door behind her. "Okay, maybe tromp was the wrong word," she chuckled lightly to herself. _He really is kinda cute when he's not at work._

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She could hear the key in the lock, but she didn't look up when he opened the front door; she was way too involved in what she was currently doing.

"Hey, you're awake! Great!"

Catherine sat on the floor of the living room, flipping television channels. "You've got everything!" she said excitedly. "I barely get the local channels, but this….this is heaven!"

Nick laughed, and setting his keys down he sat on the sofa to be near her.

She looked up at him and pointed towards the TV with her remote hand. "Did you know that there's a show where people sneak into your home and redecorate it while you're not there! It's insane!"

"Yeah," he chuckled, "sometimes I get really sucked in by those. I mean, they start with some of the ugliest rooms, and at the end you're either 'That is really cool' or 'That looked better before you messed with it.'" Watching as stations flitted past, Nick began to feel that he would never have control of the remote again. _I guess there are worse things to lose,_ he mused.

Glancing at the clock, Catherine started to get up. "We're going to be late getting Linds."

Nick waved her back down. "No sweat, Warrick's getting her and taking her for ice cream and a movie. You and me have the night free."

Catherine smiled at the thought of an evening without arguing. "Thanks, Nick," she sighed, "and remind me to thank Warrick later."

"How'd you sleep?"

Smiling, Catherine continued to flip stations. "Oh, I slept great! Thanks so much for letting me sleep for a while. I mean, I could've gone home, but there…" she wrinkled her nose, "well, there's always laundry to do or dishes in the sink or bills to pay. I never would have slept that well just because there's so much other stuff that needs to get done."

"Well, I'm happy that you're comfortable enough here to have gotten some rest."

She glanced at the other end of the sofa where Nick had carefully stacked a pillow and blanket. "You know, you didn't have to sleep on the sofa in your own house."

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"How can I face Grissom? He's going to think that I've totally lost objectivity," she took another bite of her salad and stabbed at a helpless tomato.

"Don't worry about what Grissom says, or even about what he thinks," Jim said soothingly. Brass had tried all evening to dissuade her from even thinking about Grissom, but it was a losing battle.

He had always known that she had been interested in Grissom, but he was seeing that Gil's response to the situation had only created more tension and turmoil for Sara. She was really struggling with finding out that Grissom knew she'd been crying at work, and above all, he didn't want to tell her about the conversation in the park. It had been Jim's fault that she had been crying at all, or at least he was the impetus, and the last thing he wanted was to make matters worse.

"How's your salad?" he ventured, hoping it was safe territory.

"It's a salad," she said flatly, then eyeing his plate with an unveiled look of revulsion, "How's your steak?"

With his fork halfway to his mouth, Brass's hand stopped and he stared blankly at her for a moment. A look of sudden concern came over his face. "I know you're a vegetarian. Does it bother you when other people eat meat?" He mentally kicked himself for not having thought of that before he ordered his dinner.

Seeing that he was sincerely distressed by the situation, she smiled gently. "No, I don't care if you eat it. It's just that, well, it reminds me of some of Grissom's experiments, and that's not too appealing. But you seem to be enjoying it," she added, hoping to relieve Brass's worry, "so please don't stop on my account. I can see you're a steak and potatoes kind of guy." He chuckled as she pointedly glanced at his not-so-flat tummy.

He grinned and nodded, popping the fork full of steak into his mouth before she changed her mind.

"Brass?"

"Hmmm? Yeah?" he mumbled through a mouthful of meat, looking up to see her eyes focused intently on his own. _Uh, oh,_ he thought, _this is about to get serious again, and the evening has only just begun._

"Why did you come to the park?"

_Uh, oh…gotta think fast!_

"Frankly? I was worried about you. I thought maybe I had said something wrong back in the lab and I wanted to know that you were okay." _Will she be satisfied with that answer? It's the truth, it just isn't all of it._

She carefully laid her fork down on the table, and looked back searchingly at Brass again. "Jim, I have never **once** seen you outside of work and office functions."

He nodded, uncertain what else he could do. The moment of truth was swiftly coming, and he wasn't sure he was entirely ready for it.

"So, why did you come to the park? You had me on the phone, you could have just asked if I was alright."

Shrugging his shoulders, Brass quipped, "Well, you know us cops, we're never happy taking someone's word for it. We always gotta see it with our own eyes."

Sara fixed him with a menacing stare and he became serious. _Okay,_ he thought, _funny remarks won't work tonight…I'll shift to plan B. Uh, oh, I don't have a plan B._

"I could have," he nodded, "but I wanted to **see** that you were alright." He could see she wasn't quite satisfied with that answer, so he gave up a little more. "I wanted you to know that you had someone to turn to when you needed…someone who wouldn't judge you…" There was the rest of the truth, hanging on to the end of his sentence, but he couldn't quite push it out… _someone who loves you._

"I see," was all she said, and picked her fork back up.

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TBC in Chapter 6.

Please review and let me know how you liked this chapter.


	6. Blundering Down the Road to Ruin

A/N: As always, they're not my characters & I don't make any $.

Regarding reviews, I don't mind if you leave a flame but 1) don't be a coward and leave it anonymously...that's just rude, and 2) don't just say something like "this story sucks" because that doesn't help me to improve as a writer, and it's also just rude, and 3) please do not use profanity, that's also just rude. It is very encouraging to hear that even some of you who are not B/S shippers are enjoying this story. Thank you for letting me know what you think.

I know it's been a very long time…my sincerest apologies…

A brief re-cap:  
Chapter 1: Brass talks to Sara; Catherine gets mad at Grissom.  
Chapter 2: Sara leaves the lab crying; Warrick gets mad at Grissom.  
Chapter 3: Brass finds Sara crying in a park; Nick has a talk with Catherine & Lindsey.  
Chapter 4: Grissom finds Brass and Sara in the park; Brass gets mad at Grissom.  
Chapter 5: Warrick and Nick have a talk; Brass and Sara have dinner.

CHAPTER 6: Blundering Down the Road to Ruin

Nick fumbled around the floor for his jacket until he located the ringing cell phone. _This had better be important!_ he thought.

"Stokes," Nick barked into the phone.

"Nicky? It's Jim…" There was a long pause while Nick waited to hear what case Brass was calling him about more than two hours before his shift began. "You got a second to talk?"

Nick glanced around the room quickly. The bed was a sea of sheets and blankets, all askew, there were dinner's dishes on the floor, and a lovely red-head lounging on the bed trying to get his attention. "Well, uh," he began, but Nick's tone changed as he heard Brass's voice again.

In the most dejected voice Nick had ever heard Brass use, Jim said, "I think maybe I really screwed up."

"Yeah, uh, sure, I've got a second…" thump "Umph."

"Nicky? You still there?...Nicky?"

Catherine stifled her laughter with a pillow as she watched Nick putting his pants on with one hand while talking on the phone. At first, he just ran into the nightstand, which made her giggle, but when he fell on his butt she began to laugh so hard her eyes watered.

He gave her a mockingly dirty look as he pulled his jeans on the rest of the way and picked the phone up again. "Sorry, Jim, dropped the phone for a sec. What were you saying?"

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Grissom eyed the arrangement of items carefully. He wanted them to be perfect, but there was something that was out of place and he couldn't put his finger on it. The objects were meant to convey something he wanted to say, but he felt that they were saying the wrong thing.

_It's the chocolate!_ he decided suddenly and grabbed for the box of assorted caramels and nuts covered in milk chocolate, gave it a disdainful look and tossed it into the trash by his desk.

"What did chocolate ever do to you?"

Startled, Grissom jerked around to see Warrick leaning casually in the doorway looking quizzically at the trash can which had just received the chocolate.

"Shift doesn't start for a while yet, right?" Grissom was suddenly afraid that he had less time than he thought.

Standing up straight, Warrick looked at the pile of items on the desk, and then back at Grissom. "No, not for another couple of hours. I just came in to take care of a couple things before the night got going."

Grissom could see that Warrick wanted to ask about the other items, but he wasn't going to give him the chance. "Well, I'm finishing up some things myself, then I'm taking the night off," he said almost cheerfully as he none too politely ushered Warrick out of his office and closed the door.

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"Nick? I know you're home. Your truck is in the drive and I can hear you in there. Open up!"

Nick looked from the door across the room to the phone in his hand. "Um, just a sec!" he called out to the back of the door.

From the room behind him Catherine groaned. "Who is it now? Send them away!"

He rushed back to the bedroom and whispered, "This'll just take a second." He smiled apologetically at her as he quickly shut the bedroom door, but he didn't close it fast enough to miss the disappointed scowl on her face.

"Come on, Nick! I look like an idiot standing out here!"

Nick raised the phone to his ear again. "Still there, Brass?"

"I'm here. I was saying that I really messed things up with Sara. I tried to take your advice and get her mind off Grissom, but I don't think it worked. Then, well, let's just say that I said something I maybe shouldn't have. She left a little bit ago and I've tried calling her at home but she's not answering. What do I do now?"

"I have an idea," Nick began with a conspiratorial smile. "She's not at home, that's why she's not answering."

A now suspicious sounding Brass asked, "And how would you know that?"

Still smiling, he responded, "Because she's pounding down my front door. Listen, maybe you didn't blow it as bad as you think. Just hold the line, okay?"

Setting the phone down on the end table, Nick opened the door and let Sara in.

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Warrick sat quietly in the break room thumbing through an enormous pile of papers.

"Whatcha got there?"

Looking up, he saw Greg standing by the empty coffee pot. "I'm just trying to get through my paperwork backlog. I've been putting it off for a few days and I think it multiplied while I wasn't looking." He turned back to the papers.

"Well, I was just gonna make some coffee before everybody got in…" Sanders trailed off.

Not looking up from the stack of work, Warrick replied, "Go ahead, Greggo, I'm not stopping you."

"Well," Greg stammered, shuffling his feet. "I was, uh, making a pot of, uh," more shuffling of feet, "my, err, special blend." Greg waited nervously for Brown to get the clue to leave.

Taking a second to understand, Warrick finally looked up at Greg, and leaning back in his chair he smiled broadly. "And you're worried that I'll see where you hide your secret stash?"

A pensive look crossed Greg's face before he finally nodded.

"Don't worry, I've known for weeks. It's behind the pistachios. Your secret is safe with me," Warrick assured him, smiling at Greg's obvious discomfort.

"Darn! I didn't think anyone around here ate pistachios!" Greg gave up and opened the cupboard.

Just as he did, Grissom burst in, pausing briefly in the doorway when he saw Sanders and Brown, then wordlessly walked to the freezer, removing a pint of ice cream. He stood there reading the label for a bit. Then putting the pint back, he walked out again, with Greg and Warrick staring bewildered after him.

Finally, still staring after Grissom, Greg asked, "Did you see that too?"

"Yeah, I saw that."

Another long silence hung in the break room before Greg spoke again. "I didn't think Grissom ate ice cream."

"I don't think he does…apparently he just reads it." Warrick turned back to his paperwork, shaking his head. "And he's got something against chocolate too."

Greg turned to stare dumbfounded at his co-worker, and began to ask for an explanation, but thought better of it and quietly went back to his coffee making.

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Jim was thankful he'd pulled over in a quiet lot to call Stokes. It was taking all his concentration to hear what was happening on the other end of the phone, and it wouldn't have been good to get in an accident tonight.

He was having trouble hearing everything she was saying; her voice occasionally dropped so low and soft that all he could hear was mumbling.

"I woke up at his place and…"

"What!" Nick's surprise was evident in his voice, and Brass wished he'd had more time to fill Nick in on the events of the whole day.

After a pause, Sara began again. "No, not mumble mumble. It's kind of a long story and I really don't want to mumble mumble mumble. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Anyway, we pretty much spent the day together. Ate breakfast, watched daytime soaps and went out to dinner. I wasn't mumble mumble, but it was, well, nice."

"Nice? What does nice mean?"

"Umm, nice? I mean that it was relaxing. Probably the first mumble mumble day I've had in months."

Brass could hear Nick's voice loud and clear as Nick said, "So far, nothing is setting off any alarms. It sounds like you enjoyed the day, so how come you're pounding down my door and not still out relaxing with him?"

He stared fixedly at his steering wheel as he pressed the phone hard against his ear, waiting to hear her response. For a fleeting second his mind drifted and he wondered how women could talk on the phone without being stabbed in the head with their earrings. _Focus, Jim! Focus!_

He came back to his eavesdropping just in time to hear Sara say, "He told me how he feels…about me."

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Catherine sat alone in the bed for a long time in the quiet bedroom. Finally giving up that Nick was returning "in a second," she threw off the sheets and began to pick up her clothes.

She could hear talking from the other room, and it sounded like Sara was over. It briefly crossed her mind that Nick and Sara were more than friends, but as she quietly opened the door and leaned her head out she heard Sara saying, "It's just so unexpected! What is he thinking! I mean, we work together!"

Nick asked quietly. "Is that really the issue?"

After a pause, Sara sighed, "No. It was just so unexpected. I just wasn't looking for something like this to happen now...especially not after everything that's already happened with Grissom."

Catherine smiled knowingly and shut the door again. Trying to be as quiet as possible, she began to get ready for her shift.

Still smiling at herself after her shower, she said to herself in the mirror, "So, that's what Gil said that had Sara all emotional. Well, it was about time!" Her smile got bigger.

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Gil carefully packed the items on his desk into a box and carried it out of his office. With hardly a pause at Ecklie's door, he announced, "I'm taking the night off, Conrad. Be sure to give Catherine the cases for assignment."

Ecklie hardly had a chance to look up before Grissom was gone again. "Ugh, sure thing," he said the empty space.

Grissom went from Ecklie's office directly to his car, placing the box carefully in his trunk. His jaw was beginning to noticeably swell, and his throat hurt a little, but his pains weren't even secondary thoughts as he pulled his SUV out of the lot and headed for Sara's house. _If I'm lucky, I won't be too late._

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"Thanks for listening, Nick."

Nick smiled warmly as Sara opened the door to leave. "Anytime. You know that," he said reassuringly.

She nodded and smiled back, pulling the door shut behind her, then practically sprinted down the driveway to her car.

Alone with his thoughts for barely a second, a voice behind him said with a laugh, "I thought she'd never leave!"

Nick turned to see Catherine standing just inside the room, a huge smile lighting her face. "We've got just enough time to grab a snack and head to work, but we'd better hurry or we'll be late."

"Thanks for giving us the time to talk that out, Cath," he expressed as he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Grabbing the phone off the end table and rushing back towards the bedroom, he told her to grab something from the kitchen and wait for him. "I'll just be a minute," he uttered as he shut the bedroom door behind him.

Once he was alone again, he held the phone to his ear, listening for a second before whispering, "Jim? Still there?"

Brass's deep voice answered immediately. "Yeah, Nicky. Thanks. You've been a huge help."

"Listen, you know what to do now. Trust your instincts on this one."

Brass smiled to himself, thanked Nick again and hung up. Putting his car in gear and pulling out onto the wide Vegas street, he thought carefully about his next step, and headed straight for Sara's house. _If I'm lucky, it's not too late to fix this._

Continued in Chapter 7

Please review…it's been a year since I posted and I really need the feedback. Thanks.


	7. Destination In Sight

**Author's Notes:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed my last chapter. You've all been very encouraging, and I'm looking forward to hearing what you think of this chapter. Also, thanks to beaujolais for help with the beta. Any errors left are entirely mine from over tweaking.

**Spoilers:** Little tiny spoilers for Season One, _Stalker_. If there are others, they were entirely unintentional and I didn't notice them when I re-read.

**Chapter 7: Destination In Sight**

Catherine had been trying to hide her interest the whole way to work, but Nick wasn't volunteering any information about Grissom and Sara. She decided to probe a little and see what he would tell her. "So, who was on the phone?"

Nick looked distracted as he drove, but he made an effort to bring his thoughts into the now and focus on the other occupant of his speeding SUV. "Hmm? Oh, uh, just Brass."

Catherine's brow furrowed slightly. "What did Brass want? Was it about a case?"

He took brief sideways glances at her so that he wouldn't rear end the small pickup he was tailgating. Nick tried to mentally multitask, choosing his words carefully. "No case, just a social call." He didn't want to betray the confidence of his friend, but he also didn't want to lie to Catherine.

"Social call?" Catherine's furrows deepened from curiosity to confusion.

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"This isn't the place for you to be right now," Jim Brass said in a steely monotone.

Gil Grissom looked up from his seat on the stairs to Sara's apartment to see Brass standing on the landing just below him. "Isn't Sara with you?"

Brass clenched his teeth for a moment to stop any smart remarks from escaping. He hadn't been expecting to see Grissom for at least another day, and he'd been hoping to have the "Sara situation" solved before talking to Gris again. Slowly, he replied in clipped words, making his irritation evident, "No, she's not with me _at the moment_."

Grissom nodded, but didn't speak for several long minutes. Instead, he stared at a spot on the floor in front of Jim's feet. Just as Brass was about to tell him to hit the road, Grissom broke the awkward silence.

"I was wrong. I shouldn't have said those things about Sara." He paused to glance at Jim to gauge his reaction, but Brass's expression was like stone. Inhaling deeply, Grissom continued, "It was right for you to defend her. However, as friends, we could have talked it out. You seriously endangered our relationship when you hit me."

Brass stood silently for a moment, not quite surprised by the change in course, but not prepared either. He eyed Grissom with suspicion, wondering what his intentions were, then suddenly he came to a decision and sat down on the stairs beside Gil.

Brass carefully weighed his reactions. He could feel frustration rising in his throat at Gil's words. _Talked it out! I've tried talking to this thick skulled idiot savant! Obviously talking didn't sink in and less enlightened measures were necessary!_ As he considered sharing his thoughts with Grissom, he realized that another argument would ensue. Taking a deep breath to calm himself and gather his courage, Brass made the decision to get right to the point.

"Grissom, I know why you're here," he said quietly, turning to look Grissom straight in the eyes, "and I'm telling you that it's not a good idea."

When Grissom made no move to respond, Brass continued. "I know how you feel about her. Hell, I've even tried to talk you into telling her." Pausing, he looked away to stare with intense scrutiny at the unnatural green indoor/outdoor carpeting of the landing. "The problem, Gris, is that you run hot and cold with her, and that's got her all twisted up. She doesn't know whether to jump left or right, and she's sure that whatever she chooses will end up being wrong. For what it's worth, she's probably right. Sometimes there's just no right way to approach you."

Grissom stared fixedly at Brass's profile. "I suppose you know what I should do."

Brass slowly let out a long breath and turned to face his friend. With determined certainty, he said, "Yes. Yes I do. And you'd better do it, or you're likely to lose your two best allies, and a very good friend."

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Sara slowed to a stop in front of the small brick house that she had spent the better part of the day at. She was disappointed to see that there were no lights on inside, and his car was no where to be seen.

"Damn!" she swore under her breath.

_Maybe he ran some errands after he dropped me at my car._ For a moment, she considered waiting for him to come home, but then she thought that he had probably gone in to work after all.

Mentally kicking herself for thinking he might actually be sitting at home licking his wounds and pining for her company, she pounded hard on the gas and squealed up the street.

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"I knew you two had been closer ever since the stalking, but I didn't realize you were, uh, social."

Nick visibly winced at the mention of the deranged cable guy that had tried to kill him. "I thought we agreed never to mention Nigel again."

"Oh, yeah, sorry." Catherine flushed, trying hard to think of a question that would take Nick's focus off the previous trauma. "So, you and Brass are bosom buddies now, eh?"

Nick pulled into the lab's parking lot as he answered. "I don't know that I'd say bosom buddies, but after, uh," his voice trailed off for a moment before he glanced across the seat at her and started again. "After Nigel, Jim was faithful to check on me, see if I needed anything, and make sure I was okay. He was, well, he was easier to talk to than my PEAP counselor, not to mention easier to get in to see." He smiled at her and turned back to his driving just in time to swerve, missing one of the swing shift lab techs as they pulled out of their compact car parking space. "Jerk!" he mumbled.

Catherine sat silently as Nick pulled into a parking spot and got out. She still hadn't found out anything about Grissom and Sara, but she decided that this had been a good talk and she wasn't going to regret the turn it had taken. As they walked towards the double glass doors, she turned to Nick and smiled warmly. "It's good to know he's looking out for you."

Nick smiled back brightly. "Nah, we look out for each other." Laughing to himself, he opened the door and held it for her.

Catherine got the distinct feeling that he was enjoying a private joke, but she'd have to ask him about it later, because Warrick was just coming towards them.

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Back in the parking lot, Grissom frowned at the Styrofoam cooler in his back seat. "So, you're saying that the picnic is a bad idea?"

Brass slowly shook his head. _I know he's not that thick!_

"But I got her favorite ice cream…" Grissom's face fell into contemplation. "I thought that was better than chocolates…" he said almost to himself.

Brass rolled his eyes. M_aybe he is that thick!_ "What you're doing is exactly what has caused the tension in the first place. If you're this afraid of losing your chance with her, then maybe you should try acting like a human being in her presence on a daily basis."

Brass waited to see if Grissom understood, but Grissom was only staring blankly back at him. _Oh, for crying out loud!_ "If you make this big gesture, she'll only see it as another way in which you're leading her on. Without any other evidence that things have changed between you the two of you, she'll be waiting for you to withdraw your favor at any moment because that would be more in keeping with your history."

A small spark of understanding came into Gil's eyes. "Ah."

Brass finally smiled at him for the first time all day. "So, take this stuff home and go back to work. Tomorrow, try being nice to her. Then, the day after that, try it again. Pretty soon, you'll have the hang of it," he said, patting Grissom on the arm and trying to hurry him to leave.

Gil frowned suddenly, his eyes narrowing at Brass. "Are you trying to get rid of me so you can take a shot with her?"

Brass's voice became immediately hard. "I have never known you, Gil Grissom, to make the same mistake twice. So, let's not go repeating our little scene in the park, okay?"

Jim's face turned red as he spoke, and he began to feel a throbbing in his temple. The anger from earlier in the day was beginning to creep back into him. When Grissom had insulted Sara's honor and made certain implications about her sex life, Brass's temper had burst a gasket. He could still remember the anger driving him, the feeling of hitting Grissom and holding him against that tree. In the emotion of the moment, Brass had made a necessary point, but Gil was his friend and he didn't want to have to make that point again.

"As far as I'm concerned, you had a huge moment of 'dumb-ass' this morning, but you're never going to do it again, so there's no need for us to mention it again. Is there?"

Grissom unconsciously reached up and rubbed his bruised jaw, then slowly shook his head.

"Good! I took no pleasure in cleaning your clock, Gil, but I'll do it again any day if you ever suggest such things about Sara, or that I don't have her best interests in mind."

Brass was clenching his teeth, the muscles in his shoulders tensed. He looked as though he might be preparing to take another swing. It was evident that Brass was telling the truth, but Grissom couldn't back down just yet. Carefully controlling himself, he asked in an even tone, "Are you telling me that you don't have feelings for her too?"

Jim's lip twitched, and his fingers curled and flexed. He blinked a couple of times as he stared at Gil's cold, probing eyes. This would not be a question he could avoid. Drawing a deep breath, he stood up to his full height and prepared his answer.

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Warrick stopped Nick and Catherine at the door and led them into a side hall before speaking. "Guys, something weird is going on, and I thought you should have a heads up before you run in to Ecklie."

Catherine frowned. "Ecklie? His shift is over. He shouldn't still be here."

Warrick frowned right back at her and started shaking his head. "Ecklie is looking for you right now. He's got cases for you to hand out and…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Handing out cases is Grissom's job." Nick interrupted.

Now Warrick nodded. "Yeah, but Grissom apparently took the night off, and so did Sara." Noticing Catherine's smile, Warrick also added, "And so did Brass."

As Nick's eyes widened at his comprehension of the situation, he dug his cell phone out of his pocket and began dialing. Seeing Warrick and Catherine's confused faces, he said, "Uh, sorry guys, I forgot I've got this one call to make. You'll have to excuse me." Abruptly, he turned and walked back out into the parking lot with the phone to his ear.

Warrick turned back to Catherine after a moment. "Seriously, Cath, what's going on? Everyone around here is acting really out of character today."

"I had my suspicions, but…you're sure Brass took the night off too?" she asked as she motioned him to start walking with her to the conference room.

Walking close by her and trying to talk so that they would not be overheard as they passed, Warrick quietly explained all he had seen the night before. Careful to point out that he had not actually heard anything noteworthy, he told her about overhearing her scolding Grissom, and later seeing him throw away a new box of chocolates, plus the components of a picnic spread out over his desk.

"Chocolates you say? Now that's interesting…" Catherine's thoughts trailed off as she considered the implications of Grissom and chocolates, and picnics.

"But that's not the half of it, Cath."

She turned back to him with her full attention, stopping in the middle of the hall and causing several people to have to walk around her. One eyebrow slowly raised and her expression became intense and searching as she stared at him. "What's the rest then?"

Again trying to quietly tell her what else he'd seen, he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

Springing back unexpectedly, Catherine's eyes widened. "You're sure you saw him holding her!"

Several people at the end of the hall stopped to look at them and feeling self conscious, Catherine grabbed Warrick's arm and led him into an empty evidence room.

"Listen, I know what I saw. He was holding her, and then he kissed her and left."

Catherine's jaw dropped momentarily before she could make her mouth say, "What? Kissed her? Did they know you were there?"

He thought for a moment before shaking his head. "No, they didn't see me. But when I came back later to check on her, she was crying and then she bolted out of the office and took off. I haven't seen her since, but a few hours later Brass called to tell me she was okay and she'd be taking the night off."

She leaned back against the table behind her and let the silence of the room soak into her thoughts. _Grissom and Brass and Sara…Who _was _she talking to Nick about? I'm so confused!_

Just at that moment, the door opened and Nick stuck his head in. "I've been looking for you guys! What are you doing in here?" He eyed them suspiciously.

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Sara snapped her cell phone shut. It had been a bizarre conversation with Nick, and she got the impression that he wasn't telling her everything. He'd said that he had just arrived at the lab and wanted to check on her.

That wasn't the bizarre part, though. Nick had asked her if she'd seen Grissom today. _He knows I spent the day with Jim. When would I have seen Grissom?_

Even as she was asking herself that, she pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex…and saw Brass…and Grissom.

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Continued in Chapter 8

Okay, I know I'm cruel because I'm keeping you hanging. Honestly, though, I really thought this would be the last chapter, but it didn't work out that way and I hope you won't mind tuning in for one more chapter…or maybe two… However, reviews are required for inspiration. No reviews No inspiration. Do you see what I'm getting at here? For the love of all that's good (and for the rest of the story), review!


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